#Also that statue at the end was my grandmother's

[overthinkingfeathers]

It took her five years to learn how to get on the mantle. It took less than 24 hours after that for her to knock off two plants and the grow light.

[ellierenae]

SUPER UNIQUE writing ideas for hobbyists and professionals looking for fun, personal projects to get their inspo back

get a fictional pen pal (ask your other writer friends!) and spend time decorating envelopes, picking out a handwriting style, maybe buying a cheap perfume/cologne that smells like your character to really get to know them and feel their presence. if you have hand tremors or bad handwriting like me, you can choose a handwriting font for them and print their letters out!! more examples: save the dates, wedding invitations, birthday cards, party invites, etc.

use old calendars in character (there are many "expired" planners on sale around the end of the year, usually August) personally, i use them to record major life events like first band tours, trips abroad, holidays, birthdays... even trash pickup days and when they forget to roll out the bins!

sketch floor plans this can be on graph paper if you have the know-how when it comes to scaling down, but there are also tons of simple apps that allow you to both create the floor plan a builder would use and add furniture like an interior decorator. some even let you rotate them afterwards and see the furniture and walls burst to life in 3D! you can think of them as the sims but where everything is actually to scale

make an architectural model if you have some scrap cardboard, paper, and glue, you can easily bring the floor plan you just made to life (you'll need practice if you want to get really fancy with it of course! window panes and railings are the gnarliest part for me, haha)

make a playlist as your character maybe the most accessible one on this list, you can make the playlist your character listens to. sometimes this can be fun and surprising, like when my little guy Possum from Violence Without Plot is covered in tattoos and plays punk music on stage but listens to nothing but spa music to wind down between shows

write something your character can see this one is so weird to summarize but what i mean is like... a school essay for your teacher character to grade. cryptic street signs warning about danger by the lake. a memorial plaque beneath a statue. a character's online blog. a few of the cards in a grandmother's recipe box. a business card for a smooth-talking lawyer. things you can write that make everything feel so textured and real

these are all things i do on the daily, and it makes my life as a writer a thousand times more joyful and fulfilling. so have fun, be safe, and don't forget to unplug the hot glue when you're done <3

[zeldasnotes]

𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝕬𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕻𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖔 🦇

This post is mostly about the hard aspects(square, conjunct, opposition) but people with the soft aspects might relate too. Also keep in mind these are my personal observations so not everyone will agree.

🌑 The need to be in control can sometimes be devastating to live with. It can even be felt physically when they are losing control or when they feel powerless. Feeling powerless can make them act in a very disturbing way.

🌒 People with this placement might be the black sheep of the family. There seem to often be something with them that differs from the rest of the family, especially physically. A lot of times they are darker than other family members since this placement can create darker features. But there seem to also be a huge difference in personality.

🌓 They have experienced women not liking them for no reason and later in life they often become like this themselves if they dont work on it. Often there is a theme of older women being mean to them and then they grow up to be the mean old woman who targets a young girl.

🌑 Ive also seen a theme of them having an evil stepmom and then they themselves meet a man when kids and treats their stepchildren just like their stepmother treated them.

🌒 There is a habit of writing people off or disliking someone based on a feeling they got from them that was actually just themselves projecting their own inner fear onto this person. Others get this feeling about them too and they are often themselves a victim of others disliking them for no reason.

🌓 It can be very hard for them to take a look in the mirror and see that they are causing a lot of the issues in their relationships themselves because they are so hyperfocused on what their partner is doing or might do.

🌑 A lot of times there was a grandmother who disliked them or were mean to them. So its not always the mother who was the worst, the issues can be with grandmothers and stepmothers too. For some reason they seem to have good aunts tho? Like their aunties seem to be the most normal in the family.

🌒 This can make someone extremely vengeful & they can resent someone for a lifetime.

🌓 People with this placement seem to often want to become popular or know a lot of people to feel like they have power. Or even want to be feared.

🌑 They seem to often be paranoid in the wrong situations but as soon as they let their guard down they get burned. Especially when it comes to women. This leads to a strong fear of letting the guard down and can make them push a lot of people away.

🌒 Eating disorders seem to be very common with these placements since eating disorders are often about control.

🌓 They fear anything that has to do with powerlessness. Being looked down on is also a huge fear here. This can make them social climbers and cloutchasers in some cases. Being a part of the ”bottom of society” is a huge fear here so they can be very drawn to important people, titles, status symbols and high power careers.

🌑 They might be very ashamed of their sensitive nature and therefore try to act as carefree as possible. Or even force themselves to become carefree and cold.

🌒 This coldness usuallt occurs in their teens until their early twenties where they shut down completely emotionally. This often makes them VERY problematic during their teens.

🌓 In the end of their teens or in their twenties they usually transform completely because of situations in their lives and experience a rebirth of their emotional selves. After this they often become beautiful souls. Not always tho. For a lot of them the bitterness stays forever because life just hasnt been fair to them.

🌑 Both women and men with this placement seems to be bothered by what women do and can be slutshamers. The kind of people to give the stankface to a woman walking by with a short skirt or ”too much” makeup, plastic surgery etc (these are things ive seen moon/pluto people react strongly too lol)

🌒 Men with this placement can have a very strong feminine energy and Ive noticed that a lot of them beef with women instead of beefing with other men and even hate on women they never met.

🌓 They do NOT like other sneaky people, unless its a man. A woman with this placement might for example refuse to talk to a woman who she gets bad vibes from but will love a man with shady vibes. Might hate a woman because ”shes fake and talks a lot of shit” but will be the first to be with a man who talks shit about people.

🌑 They pick up the psychological state of everyone extrememy fast and therefore can have strong reactions to others, especially people who remind them of themselves.

🌒 Sometimes there can be a fear of becoming like their mother. They might have a mother whos done a lot of mistakes and they are afraid of becoming like her. In some cases they can even have a feeling of disgust for their mother.

🌓 Punishment in their childhood might have been very harsh and involved stuff related to safety and nurture. Such as not getting food, being thrown out of the house.

🌑 Their mother might have liked to show her power by weird rules and ideas. If the child was freezing outside for example and wanted to come in the mother might be like ”You can come in when the clock is 5”. Or if the child was hungry ”You get food when you finished your homework.” Safety and nurture was not to be taken for granted like in normal households.

🌒 This can lead to very deep issues concerning these things and a feeling of never being safe. This can make them very fixated with food and control later in life.

🌓 The mother often had no respect for their private life or might have a hard time with boundaries. In extreme cases even being fixated on the Moon/Pluto childs sex life and relationships. The kind of mother to read their daughters diary or spy on their daughter/son when they are in their room with a romantic partner.

🌑 There is often a case of their mother figure being disgusted by them one minute and kind the next. They recieved very strong reactions from their mother figure and at times even extreme anger for nothing.

🌒 A strong fear of being controlled or used so much that they might need to rebel against what someone wants them to do to feel in control. Lets say its their friends birthday and their friends tells them that a pair of new headphones is on their wishlist. The Moon/Pluto will then buy anything but the headphones because that makes them feel used or ”what if shes telling me to buy headphones bc she knew i will run and do it, hmm i aint that easily used so i will buy something else instead to show I do what I want.” These kind of mindf*ckery is constantly going on in their head.

🌓 Betrayal by women can be a strong theme in their life. And a lot of times completely out of nowhere. Like women in their life might start disliking them for no reason without warning.

🌑 A lot of them might have experienced bullying in their childhood by a woman who was jealous of them. And might even had to change school. A lot of their issues seems to be from women envying them. And if they have asteroid Lilith or Medusa prominent this can be very extreme.

🌒 They are not only victims of others envy they can be very envious themselves too. They might not be easily jealous but WHEN they get jealous it will be extreme.

🌓 The relationship to the mother is very complicated because a lot of times the mother is the only one who understands them but at the same time the person who hurt them. Also the mother can sometimes be very similar to them. They might go long periods without talking to their mother and then a period where they hang out with her every day.

🌓 I know a lot of these observations might be negative but thats because some aspects come with more negative then positive. But these aspects can make someone extremely sensitive, loyal and kind since they understand human nature. And a lot of them make wonderful mothers/fathers.

🌑 I also want to say that these people experience issues with people with feminine energy not only women. So they will most likely have some issues with men who are feminine too, maybe even more because feminine men can be extra sensitive to this strong energy if the man is not comfortable with this energy himself.

🌒 They can feel more comfortable around ”bad” people and might not be able to hang with people who are too innocent. They can be real drama addicts.

🌓 People with this placement can be very breastfixated.

©️ 2024 Zeldas Notes All Rights Reserved

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Also, I would like to add that Malleus’s blatant disregard for the autonomy of others and fits of rage is DELIBERATE on his end. Being one of the top five mages in the entire world, I am sure that he KNOWS there is a large disparity between his power/social and the rest of the peers/subordinates etc. His sheer and utter confidence in his abilities to get what he wants and general disregard for others isn’t only an indicator of his awareness about this disparity, but is also a reflection of the abuses of his power AND social status as a whole.

In light of his age, imagine the amount of times he has repeated these mistakes despite others advice and criticisms against his choices. Only Ace has been able to overcome others general reverence and fear towards Malleus when it came to calling him out. He is not an innocent person who is ignorant about the ways of humanity verses faes, and is certainly not the innocent character the fandom (especially those who are infatuated by him) think he is.

[Referencing this post!]

***Standard disclaimer: In sharing my thoughts, I do not mean to disparage Malleus fans. Furthermore, me disliking him should not detract from your own enjoyment of the character. If you do not feel comfortable reading about this topic (ie critique of Malleus’s character), then I encourage you to scroll on and to not engage with this post.***

My thoughts below the cut!

I do feel that, to some degree, the disregard for others and inappropriate fits of rage come from blatant ignorance (since Malleus did have a very isolated and sheltered upbringing). However, it's also hard for me to believe that in his 178 years of living that he was NOT told countless times by those around him (mostly Lilia and his grandmother, Maleficia) to wield his power and social status more tactfully than how he has. Did he take none of those lessons to heart??? What about the 2-3 years he spent living among the non-fae at NRC? Nothing from then too?? Regarding self-awareness of his strength and social status, Malleus has made it clear on more than one occasion that he stands above others. Right from his first appearance in the main story (in book 2), it's implied he's well aware of his position--so much so that he deliberately hides his identity from Yuu. He also cannot propose to Eliza in Ghost Marriage because he is the crown prince of a nation. Time and time again, Malleus's status is mentioned and it plays into his importance as the sole heir to Briar Valley. He must also know he is powerful, given that he is one of the top 5 strongest mages in the world and can perform incredible feats (like reassembling a stage and walking through Vil's poisonous miasma in book 5) like they're nothing. His grandmother and Lilia tell him the Draconias are powerful and shouldn’t use their magic to harm, but to help those they rule over. Yet he seems to have surprisingly few qualms when turning these powers against people who are only at a fraction of his power (Rook, his dorm mates, everyone in the Scalding Sands trip group, Ortho, etc.) or have no magic at all (remember when he attacked those civilians in Terror is Trending and the other Diasomnia students had to restrain him?). Malleus may be emotional in these moments, but the fact remains that he's making the deliberate, intentional choice to wield his magic in this way. He has the ability to hold himself back (as we see him refrain from fighting Rook in Malleus's PE Uniform vignette, only because he knows Rook is baiting him), but the vast majority of the time he fails to do this. For someone who is acutely aware of his power, you'd think he would... I don't know, keep a better leash on it? And what about his identity? So Malleus is concerned about Sebek insulting Leona (the prince of another country) but he ISN'T concerned about how his own fits of anger poorly reflect on himself, who is the CROWN PRINCE of a country??? Please make that make sense... Why is Malleus so selective 💀

I'm actually quite shocked at how little Malleus's pride and arrogance is pointed out; it's usually Leona who gets those labels even though Malleus is also just as arrogant, prideful, and confident in his own powers. Most of the time, I feel like I see Malleus being called "innocent". Maybe his negative traits on display get overlooked because TWST tries so hard to present Malleus to us as someone we are supposed to like (especially with how often they use his overpoweredness or loneliness is used as a punchline for jokes). Our interactions with Malleus are also so few and so short, particularly early in the main story, that fan project their own ideas about what he's like onto him and that forms a certain “image” of him that may not be the same as how he actually is. Him being lonely makes it easy for fans to perceive him as desperate for company and even easier for fans insert themselves as his “special” friend or S/O to fill the void.

It's... quite ironic, really? Malleus says in Riddle's Suitor Suit vignettes that he is familiar with the concept of "noblesse oblige", which is the implied duty of the privileged and nobility to act gracefully towards those less privileged. Yet... he is sometimes overstepping "fae playfulness" or "teenage childishness/immaturity" and continuously creating situations which put people around him in danger (all of Endless Halloween Night, not holding back his attacks against the Magicam Monsters, all the times he let his temper get out of control, book 7 OB, etc.) When defending the extremes he took in book 7 by citing his status and his UM, Malleus has this to say, which is very telling of his lucidity: "Monitoring? Meddling? Heh, how silly. It's a king's duty to govern, is it not? I'm watching over you. To ensure no nightmares befall you in the fairy tales you now reside in... To ensure you have happy dreams that last forever!" It's implied that Malleus's grandma has told him since childhood that their line has powerful magic to protect their people's smiles--and here he is, overextending those words to people that aren't even his subjects, and twisting the meaning to justify his own brutal rule.

What I noticed is... Malleus is often so oriented on seeing the situation from his POV that he fails to consider those from any entity aside from himself. In Endless Halloween Night, he feels sorry for the ghosts who showed up late and were left out of the festivities because he can relate to them, so therefore he wants to make sure they are included. In book 7, Malleus fears his loved ones leaving and projects this fear onto everyone else so he feels right in being the one coming in to be their "hero" and grant them happy endings they never asked for. In his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, Malleus frames the circumstances as, "I wouldn't be mad if you did the same thing to me" instead of listening to his peers' complaints. He centers problems around himself (which admittedly is very frustrating to me), and this is how Malleus tries to understand and navigate the world. This gives me the impression that he has a very particular way of thinking and it's perhaps difficult for him to understand others, even with extensive pointers.

I truly believe Malleus is ignorant about humans and fae. That much matches up with what we know of his history. What I do NOT get is why he continues to remain ignorant when 1) he has spent a few years exposed to non-fae and their ways; even if this pales in comparison to the 175ish other years of his life, he should have some new basis for appropriate social interactions with other races, and 2) most of the major adult figures in his life are exposing to him he should consider others' perspectives and try to learn more about that which he is unfamiliar with. Malleus has so many opportunities to expand his horizons and get to know new people, but he seems to sit around and keep waiting for others take the initiative for him. But he could initiate too, so why doesn't he???? (He has shown he is capable of it, as he approaches Deuce to fix his virtual pet and chatting with Idia about the same pet in the main story; if not by himself, then Lilia can easily assist or invite him into activities such as the Silk City trip.) Even if Malleus fails to socialize in a way that's considered appropriate, at least that's something he can learn from and correct for next time... But why doesn’t he????????? If he did, it would sure help out with his inability to empathize with his peers and could even curb his temper (which would be seen as socially inappropriate). So why exactly does he seem to know so little and make so little effort to try and rectify this???? Why does he keep postulating that his word is above everyone else’s and then get upset when people don’t like him for this very alienating attitude? Aaaaah, it's a sad cycle to witness him devolve into again and again... 😭

P. S. Bless Ace for being the one character who still held it against Malleus for the fucked up “prank” he pulled in Endless Halloween Night (and then convincing everyone the misunderstanding was their faults for “attacking the ghosts first”).

[gojolvs]

I still want you.

Chapter 5

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

Falling in love with the Satoru Gojou wasn’t an easy task. You truly love him but will this come to an end?

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating.

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader, baby daddy gojou.

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message, also excuse my writing their might be some typos I didn’t edit :(.

5k words

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Within a short period of time, three days had passed. You asked your mother in advance if she would be able to take care of Sumire for a few weeks, after which she would fly with him to Hawaii on the day of the wedding. "I want you to be good to your grandmother, okay?" Scratching his head, you bent down to give him a hug. When you embraced him tightly and kissed his forehead, you couldn't help but frown. Although your son was going with your mother, you were still concerned that something would go wrong. "Listen to your grandmother and do not cause any problems for her." Satoru kissed his forehead and smiled before going over to you.

You had a long conversation, agreeing that a divorce was in your best interest despite your efforts to salvage your relationship. After discussing the cheating for hours, you finally agreed not to bring it up until the divorce papers have been finalized. It also meant that you had to forcefully act normal around your family members and everyone else, but once you were alone, you would stop acting normal. As a result of respecting one another's boundaries, you requested that Satoru no longer sleep in the same bed as you, see you change, or kiss you.

It was difficult to behave normally with your husband next to your mother after he cheated on you. The key was to maintain a cordial demeanor while preventing your emotions from showing. You kept your conversations with him brief and focused on neutral topics. Also, you frequently excused yourself from the room when your emotions became out of control.

Despite the fact that this was a difficult decision, you both knew it was the right one for each other. You recalled yesterday that you no longer had any feelings for each other after Satoru asked you and your sister if his mistress could attend the wedding. Your sister was talking about how she needed one more person but you couldn't come up with anyone. Although you had already contacted Shoko and Utahime, you still lacked one person. In disbelief of what he had done, you stormed off, anger coursing through your veins. Satoru had no effect on you after that discussion. As a result, you had completely forfeited your chance to be Satoru's love of his life again. At that point you didn't care if she came or not you just wanted to get this over with.

"Bye mom!" You kissed her on the cheek and waved goodbye to Sumire as he perked up at the window, seeing his white hairs twirling in the wind. You were silent throughout the entire ride to the airport, so silent that you were occasionally able to hear each other breathe. Having nothing to do, you grabbed your phone and clicked on the message you just received.

Toji Zen'in; Did you know that I was invited to be one of your sister's groomsmen? I also hope you are doing well.

As you read his text, you couldn't help but smile, and biting your lip, you felt a sense of comfort. Satoru kept his eyes glued to the road, not even glancing at your phone to see who you were texting or checking on your status.

Y/n; Thats great! I am looking forward to seeing you there :) Also, I am doing well at the moment.

When Toji replied, you purposely turned on the ringer to see if Satoru would be curious enough to see who you were speaking with. To your demise he actually was. In a quick glance at your phone, you could see him bite his tongue in an attempt to not speak. After all who cares if your texting another man it's not like he didn't do anything worse. Occasionally you would let out a small laugh in response to Toji's response. Satoru gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands. Observing him, you could see that his eyebrows were furrowed and that he had his jaw tightened up.

Toji Zen’in; I'm also bringing Megumi with me so we can finally have that "playdate" you wanted.

A second giggle escaped your lips, but despite the fact that Gojos veins were almost bursting at the seams, you were unable to stop yourself from smiling. "Stop doing that." You looked up at him, puzzled, and crossed your arms, as you stared at him in a state of confusion.

"Do what?" Counting the seconds until he responded, you licked your lips in preparation for what was to come. You couldn't help but scoff at his face when he acted like this. Why couldn't he abandon your feelings and go talk to his mistress? "Stop- you know what, nevermind." As he saw his breathing getting heavier and his composure slipping, you couldn't help but smile. Seeing you texting another man broke the heart of Gojo a bit. He didn't even understand why he was acting in such a way or why he was acting that way. As hard as he tried, he tried to come across as if he did not care, but at the same time, he did care.

"When we arrive don't expect me to act nice to her. In fact, you shouldn't even expect me to speak to her at all, since I won't." Scroozing, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your lips in despair. As for the person Satoru brought along on this stupid fucking trip, you didn't give a damn about who he brought with him, but who was he to think you would even glance at the person who cheated on you with Satoru? "She has a name y'know." You laughed at his response.

"I don't care." As you gazed at him, he flickered his angry eyes at you, obviously breaking eye contact first with you when he caught your gaze.  "As a matter of fact, her name is Jiyuu, just in case you need it." When you turned back to look at him, your eyes widened and you stared at him for a moment before deciding to turn away from him.

Emerging from the car, you couldn't help but notice that your friends were waiting for you two. "Shoko! Utahime!" you shouted, sprinting toward them and hugging them in embrace. You couldn't help but smile back at them when you saw their happy smiles.

He smiled. "Hmm, of course the two lovers are a little late." He walked behind you, hugging you tight and sticking his tongue out at Shoko as he walked past. As you let out a small giggle, you slapped his hand, giving him a slight grin. "Oh no, you know how kids are. I had to drop Sumire off at my mom's house and he was crying so I couldn't leave him like that." Utahime smiled as she grabbed Shoko by the arm and gently rested her head on her shoulders.

"Because we don’t have any children apart from you, we are unfamiliar with the nature of children." With a small laugh, you slapped Suguru on the back. Satoru couldn't help but stare as you laughed with your old highschool buddies. As soon as you saw Utahime and Shoko, he noticed that your mood had completely changed. Your eyes shone when they hugged you, and your lips tightened when you smiled at them.

"Where is Mei Mei?" As you tilted your head slightly, you observed some random person's hands blocking your view. Asserting her identity, you smiled. "Boo." As you turned around, you gave her a big hug. In a sense, Mei Mei was like an older sister to you.

As you grasped his hand, you tightened your grip on it.

Smiling, you placed your head on his shoulder. "Wait, we're missing Jiyuu," Your sister called out as she searched for the specific person you could not stand. As a taxi pulled up and she came out, you couldn't help but gasp. Her eyes lit up when Satoru saw her, and his eyes flickered to her before he looked down and realized he had made a serious error. Seeing your mood quickly change, he realized that he had made a mistake in bringing her along. As a result, you felt heavy and your emotions were scattered all over the place. Taking a deep breath, you fake smiled in front of Satoru before moving towards Shoko who was waiting patiently inside. "I'll let you two talk." you said.

"Hey!" Your heart ached as you heard her voice

Satoru remained silent as he waited for her to accompany him inside. Utahime and Shoko were the only two people who knew that there were three people involved in this marriage. Despite telling Shoko the day you discovered Gojo had cheated on you, Utahime was staying over that night and overheard everything that happened. She promised you not to tell anyone about Satoru's affair. Being the good friend she is she made sure to keep that promise.

"Are you all right?" She whispered, seeing your lips pursed, already sensing your distress. A pure act of betrayal. After reaching the airport and checking in, you were horrified to discover that you would have to sit next to Satoru during the entire flight. Immediately, Utahime and Shoko realized what was happening, looking at you with desperation. "I am sorry Satoru, but she will not be able to sit with you. I am taking your wife with me. I was wondering if you would mind swapping with her, Mei Mei?" You could feel Mei's disgust in her eyes and sighed softly.

"In that case, I will do it. You will not regret trading with me, Y/n. I know I won't regret it." When she realized that she would finally be able to sit with her lover, Jiyuu's mood had perked up. Shoko grabbed her hand as Utahimes looked on. "Wait a minute-" Her eyes widened as she realized Jiyuu would be sitting all by herself with Satoru."Okay thank you." You didn't even make eye contact with her. In your eyes, Satoru could see the betrayal flowing from your heart. "Let's go, we don't want to be late."

As you entered the airplane, you noticed a familiar face. "Toji?" After everything you had experienced, you were immediately perked up upon seeing the only male you were able to stand. Upon seeing you, he turned his head in your direction. When you saw his gentle smile, you felt a strange sensation in your heart. "Hey, where you sitting?" Pointing to where you were going to sit he couldn't help but put his hand on your shoulder. "Guess we're airplane buddies." Eyes stared at the back of your head as you spoke. Not caring if it was Jiyuu or Satoru you continued to walk to your seat. Feeling pure relief that you weren't going to sit with Satoru. Your eyes lit up upon seeing your favorite person for the first time. While carrying megumi, Toji woke him up so that he could say hello to you.

"How are you gumi?" In spite of your best efforts, you couldn't help but plant a small kiss on the child's head as you scrunched up your nose. With a gentle smile on your face, you ruffled his hair while stroking his head. The moment you finally sat down, you couldn't help but notice the laughter erupting behind you, as you took a quick glance behind you, you spotted your sister, Gojo, and Jiyuu laughing together. All of them seemed to be getting along well with each other. When you took a deep breath you turned to look at Toji, looking at his look of apologetic you knew exactly what he meant.

With Megumi sitting in the middle of you and Toji, talking about his fear of airplanes, you couldn't help but hold his tiny hand and interlock your fingers together. In preparation for takeoff, Megumi closed her small eyes. "Im scared." As Toji ruffled his hair, he comforted him, "Don't worry about it, okay? I'm here with you, as well as Y/N."

The plane took off before you knew it, with Megumi wiping away a couple of tears in the process. Carefully squeezing his cheek, you propped him up in your lap and caressed him gently. If you get into trouble, who cares? Your heart broke when you saw a child in distress, especially one so young as Sumire. His tiny hands encircled the waist of your body as Megumi cradled your stomach. Each time you caressed his hair, you pecked him on the top of his head with a small kiss. You were even more heartbroken after hearing Megumi call you mommy. "Mommy are we done yet?" Your eyes welled up with tears.

“You should go to sleep now, gumi." Hugging him closer you asked Toji to pass you a small blanket you had brought for yourself. Having gotten up, Toji opened the airplane compartment and handed you the beautiful blue blanket with cats on it. "Thank you." you replied, smiling back as you leaned your head against Tojis shoulder, slowly drifting off to sleep.

The sight of you and Toji broke Satoru's heart. "And then that happened, can you believe it Toru?" He turned his head towards Jiyuu and sighed. The nickname Toru was something you both came up with during your high school years. Continuing to watch you play with Megumi, he nodded his head. It warmed his heart to see you happy and not unhappy, as opposed to when you were with him. "Toru?" He totally missed Jiyuu's presence, since he was too busy staring at you while you were talking to Toji.

"Yes?" Looking at Jiyuu she was filled with disappointment, realizing he didn't even give her a second glance. Secretly, they were holding hands together since thanks to an unknown person next to Jiyuu they didn't have to worry about getting caught. She rubbed her eyes with her spare hand before placing her head on his shoulder. He couldn't help but stare at her. Watching how her eyes twitched when she got cold. Exactly as they used to when he slept over at your house. A smile spread across Satoru's face as he snuggled deeper.

"Yes gumi, go sleep honey." Noting the sparkle in your eyes while watching megumi cuddle closer to you, he could not help but scoff. As if he cared.

He had his so-called love of his life sitting beside him, so why would he care that you exchanged your seat just to not sit next to him. Upon seeing you so close to him, he began to doubt your credibility. His first thought was, "Did she have an affair with him?"." No, of course not, it was inevitable that anyone would fall in love with your ridiculous humor.

Though he tried to reassure himself that he felt nothing towards you, deep down he knew that he still loved you. Seeing you fall so quickly asleep with Megumi in your arms he couldn't help but feel a slight pain in his chest. When he arrived home some nights, he would see you and Sumire snuggled on the couch with the exact same blanket, or when Sumire would get up super early to jump on top of you and her during The Weeknd, and after that she would cuddle with him, bragging about Sumire being a better cuddler than him because Sumire allowed her to big spoon him.

But now that meant absolutely nothing to him, he had fell out of love so long ago. He considered meeting Jiyuu to be a blessing. Seeing her for the first time at that stupid party you were supposed to accompany him to. He initially thought it would be a one-night stand, but after seeing her multiple times, he fell in love with her. He still remembers the small quickie they had in the restroom before heading out acting like nothing happened. He knew things were going to end soon when he started missing important stuff just to meet up with his mistress at your beach house. The two of them drove three hours to your house just to spend the entire week together. During that week, he realized that he was in love with her. Seeing her run towards the beach he knew he felt it with her.

On that day, he told her everything, including that he was married and had a three-year-old child. At first Jiyuu felt betrayed telling Gojo to screw himself. To keep her, Satoru lied to her face and said that you had fallen out of love and were seeing someone else. He had told Jiyuu that things were officially done with you two.

That was a year ago.

Before you learned about his affair with Jiyuu, he had been seeing her for a full year and a half. He tried to end it with you multiple times but he couldn't find the strength to do it. He knew he couldn't do it when he saw your sleeping figure. Satoru didn't anticipate you finding out that weekend. He couldn't resist the urge to go see her after not seeing her for almost 3 weeks. The other women.

His eyes never left your sight. "Toru.." She tilted her head as she tried to catch his blank stare. Satoru snapped out of his thoughts, breathing in as he looked at his lovers face. "I'm cold," he sighed, taking off his sweater and giving it to Jiyuu, smiling she gave him a small peck on the lips before anyone noticed. Resting his head on top of hers he felt relieved.

After being jolted awake by the sudden turbulence, you sat up suddenly. You were struggling to breathe and staggered. Remembering that Megumi was asleep soundly, you cuddled closer to him. His eyes were glued shut seeing his long eyelashes you could tell he got it from his mother and not Toji. In your peripheral vision, you could see Toji sleeping soundly, he had moved to the center seat and placed his arm around your waist. A random person on the plane would've assumed that you two had a beautiful son and that you were a happy couple. Suddenly, your curiosity got the best of you and you glanced behind you. You can feel your heart breaking as soon as you see the scenery. They both fell asleep after Gojo gave Jiyuu his sweater. Observing how his eyebrow twitched and how his hair was messy, you could see Satoru breathe in and out.

Looking back forward you let a shaky and small whisper, 'at least he's happy.'

“Approximately 30 minutes from our destination, we will hand out snacks soon." The speaker woke up Megumi and Toji, both looking at you.

"Here, I'll take him from you." Grasping megumi Toji, he sat him down on his lap. In a spectacular display of strength, he wrapped his muscular arms around the sleepy 3 year old who had been complaining of hunger. "Thanks." Unbuckling the seat, you were relieved to see the bathroom was empty. You let go of Tojis' grip on your waist as you stood up. "If the lady comes, can she get me a sandwich?" You asked. With a nod, he agreed to buy you lunch.

Upon getting up, most passengers appeared to be fast asleep. While using the plane's bathroom, you noticed that the first class restroom was much different from the regular one. Thanks to your sister's husband, all of your first class tickets were purchased. A sudden feeling of nauseous hit you as you rubbed your stomach. When was the last time you ate? Before you knew it you threw up. Walking to the sink you washed your mouth grabbing the small mouth wash in the counter you made sure to wash your mouth 10x.

The nausea must've gotten you pretty bad. Exiting the restroom you were met with a familiar face. "Oh sorry," passing by her she grabbed your shoulder. Jiyuu had beautiful brown long hair. Her hair was tied up in a clip and her makeup was smudged a bit. "Please don't touch me." Refusing to make eye contact with her she scoffed . What the hell? Why was she so disturbed that you didn't let her touch you.

Rolling your eyes you sat down next to Toji, handing you the sandwhich you took a big bite. "Here have some." Giving a bite to the small child he bite it chewing with a big smile. You knew it must be hard for Megumi to grow up without a mother. He reminded you so much of Sumire you couldn't help but think maybe you could be a sort of mother figure towards megumi. "Don't chew with your mouth open." Grabbing a napkin Toji cleaned Megumis cheek. He had mayonnaise plastered all over his face. His cute green eyes looked up to you, giggling you ruffled his hair.

"No! I want mama!" crying megumi reached towards you. His small chubby hands trying to grasp your hair. He started whining smacking his dad for not letting him go with you. "C'mere its only 30 min until we land" Megumi started making a ruckus, wanting to be in your grasp and not Tojis he started kicking his legs hitting Toji. "Fine, you want Y/n? Don't be complaining when I don't carry you later." Rolling his eyes he handed Megumi to you. Seeing his pink tinted cheeks and watery eyes you smiled pinching his cheeks.

Before you knew it the plane was already landing, Megumi fast asleep on your arms you asked Toji if he could take out your small purse. Despite Megumi looking small he was quite heavy. Not minding his weight you told Toji you would carry him until you exited the airport. Standing up you rejusted megumi, his small arms wrapping around your neck. Burying his face on your neck you couldn't help but smile at him. Toji was admiring the scenery wondering if Megumi would be like this if his wife was still alive. Megumi hadn't been this clingy with anyone, always wanting to be with dad and no one else but I guess you must've won the little man's heart because he didn't let go at all.

"So cute!" Utahime smiled at you, grabbing Shoko to see the sleeping child in your arms. Satoru came behind you helping you with your luggage you quickly told him that you didn't need his help. "It's okay, Toji’s helping me." Satoru licked his teeth shaking his head he walked away, stuffing his hands in his pants. You could see his tall figure walk towards Suguru and Jiyuu, wrapping his long arm on Suguru shoulder.

"You need help with him?" Toji tilted his head pointing on the small child who was quietly snoring. Shaking your head no Toji placed his muscular arm on your waist helping you down the plane. Seeing megumi this clingy you already started missing your own son. Hoping everything was okay back at your moms house. "We only have 3 cars so please try your best to like where im assigning you all.” Your sister began naming who was going with who.

"Okay! Jiyuu your with me and my husband, Shoko and Utahime as well." Her eyes were filled with disappointment hoping she could sit with her lover. Unfortunately for her it wasn't going to work. "Toji, Y/N, and Satoru you're going with my husband sister and you can take megumi with you." The rest was a blur for you. Sitting with Satoru was already painful for you. At least you could sit with Toji and Megumi. 

Entering the car you let Toji in first, "Here take Megumi, and careful with his head okay?" Laughing you could hear Tojis deep voice his muscular chest moving. "It's not my first time sitting down in the car with my kid.” Sticking your tongue out you rolled your eyes. Sitting down next to you was Satoru. Basically you were stuck in the middle with Toji and Satoru. Grabbing the small child out of Tojis grasp you put him to sit on your lap. Playing with him he couldn't help but notice the white haired man staring at you.

"Hi, im Megumi," Smiling the little child tiled his head. Satoru stared at the smile child seeing how Megumi admired your face.

"Im Satoru Gojo, your "mommy's" husband." Looking at him when he called you mommy you scoot closer to Toji. What the fuck?

"No my daddy is with mommy." Looking at Satoru he furrowed his eyebrows, randomly hugging you. You could see that Gojo had clenched his jaw when the small toddler had said that. Scoffing gojo put his hand on megumi ruffling his tiny black hair. "No." Megumi shook his head reaching towards his dad. Toji couldn't help but laugh at the embarrassing scene going on.

Pursing your lips, you tried your best not to laugh at the white-haired man in front of you. You could tell Megumi didn't like Gojo already. When Toji viewed how Gojo was getting irritated with the small child, he smiled as he thought about his small idea. Taking hold of your hand and interlocking the fingers of his hand with yours, Toji grabbed it. “Guess your my wife now, huh?” Looking at her with a smirk on his face, Toji leaned closer to you, so close that your face turned red. In an effort to clear your head, you pursed your lips in an effort to keep your thoughts straight. The tension in Gojo's veins was so intense that he could feel it bursting. Having clenched his fist, Satoru was so close to hitting the muscular man who was clearly flirting with you in order to get an edge over him that he was on the verge of hitting him. With his face even closer to yours, your faces were inches away from one another, he looked down at your lips, giving you a small wink as he looked at you. "I'm sorry you had something,” With a smile on his face he turned back to the small child in his arms and hugged him again.

Leaving you doumbfounded you glanced at Satoru to see what his reaction was like. Satoru's gaze was intense as he watched Toji toy with you you. His eyes seemed to be burning with a mixture of anger and jealousy as the man leaned in to whisper something in your ear. Satoru's fists clenched as he watched the man's hand brush against your arm. He seemed to be struggling to keep his composure as he saw you smile back at the man.

“Thanks,” looking away you tried your best to hide your flushed face. Satoru knew that Toji was doing this as punishment towards you. “We’re here.” As you stepped out of the car to see the luxurious Hotel, you couldn’t help but gasp in amazement. It was absolutely huge, not knowing how many rooms it had you were curious. Seeing your sister walk out of her Tesla she waved at you. “Hey! Watchu think?” This was one of the most beautiful things you have ever seen in your life.

“Since it's getting pretty late, I think it will be a good idea if we go rest and the next day we can go to the beach," Holding her fiancé's hand, she smiled waving goodbye to everyone before handing them the key to their hotel room. The truth is that you didn't want to sleep with Satoru at all. Since he had his mistress room, you prayed that he would stay there all night or maybe even the whole week if he had one. Thank god, he actually answered your prayers. There was a sigh of relief as everyone made their way to their rooms. Seeing Satoru follow Jiyuu, one couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as well. Entering the hotel room it was huge. It was so spacious that it even had a balcony, and although there was only one bed in it, you were grateful that you had it all to yourself. As you were already undressing yourself, you couldn't help but let your thoughts wander. Thinking about how Satoru actually chose to go with Jiyuu and not stay with you. Although you knew it was over, you could not accept the fact that the man you once loved was gone. After undressing yourself, you put on some shorts and a large sweater. Hearing someone knock at your door as you were about to lie on the bed, you quickly fled to the door. As you opened it slightly, you were relieved to see a familiar face inside.

"Hey, this little guy wants to sleep with you.." Rubbing his neck, Toji couldn't help but grin, seeing your face light up made him happy. Megumi was already reaching towards you, his chubby hands trying to grasp you. Nodding, you allowed Toji into the hotel room. Not knowing where he was going to stay, he decided to sleep on the couch while you shared a bed with Megumi.

Upon closing the door, Toji couldn't help but lick his lips. He had already figured out someone was watching him, but seeing him walk into your hotel room made him smirk a little. As a result, he knew the white haired man would become absolutely feral if Toji answered the hotel room rather than you

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[maeby-cursed]

SOMETIMES I'M NOT MYSELF, I LOOK FOR A BETTER DISGUISE…

𓂃 DANCING TILL THE POWER GOES OUT.

a/n: following with my songfic series, this one is inspired by valiente by vetusta morla (the original lyrics are "a veces no soy yo, busco un disfraz mejor / bailando hasta el apagón") ! this is also an angst fic but the vibe in this one is a bit more pungent. i apologize for making toji like this, i will get back to my soft!toji program soon ♡ (this one is vv weird, btw, and i wrote it while suffering from a headache, enjoy)

✧ synopsis: you met toji seven months ago and since then, the only thing you've both agreed on is how much you cannot stand each other. now it's time to go; even if it means giving up trying, and leaving a familiar warmth behind.

✧ pairings: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

✧ wc: 1.6k

✧ rating: angst ! pure angst, discounted and at a good price ! angst and pain; two for the price of one ! of the richest quality and endless suffering !!

✧ cw: toxic relationship, toji suffers from toxic masculinity, a bit of an age gap (toji is early 30s, reader is implied to be early 20s), mentions of toji's shitty ass economy, heavy cursing.

There’s a storm inside your house and it is made of cries locked within the walls of your lover’s apartment.

You and Toji have been arguing for six months out of the seven you’ve known him.

Apparently, May flowers brought November showers (or better said, downpours), as well as a thick darkness, because since last week, Toji's entire street has been without light, water or electricity. 

A desert in the middle of a flood, seems almost biblical.

Both of you are in the kitchen – distressingly narrow and painted in a gloom shade of indigo –, in the midst of your fifth discussion this week. The fridge door is open while you talk, but neither of you cares, all of its contents are already wasted, anyways. The light doesn’t even flicker.

You don't know exactly how this particular fight started.

Toji had arrived at his apartment – his, exclusively – late, with a bag of fast food in hand. An individual order. When he’d arrived, he’d looked at you and asked you what you were doing there, and everything had gotten out of hand from that point on.

After six months of waiting for him in the same place, in the same position, in the same corner of his grimy sofa, you'd thought he might remember you, might remember that you are a constant in his life.

Not the case.

The fight escalates to such an extent that you find yourself shouting and gesticulating aggressively.

What starts badly ends worse, your grandmother used to say.

(And yet, it ends).

So now you stand barefoot, in your white slip, looking at him with all the fire you can fan into your eyes. 

"I have no fucking idea what is it that you want, Toji Fushiguro, but you need to stop looking for it in me. Either take me as I am or leave me, it's as simple as that."

He looks back at you, his gaze shallow. He always stares at you like this, as if instead of seeing you, he were trying to evaluate you; like you’re nothing but a mere statue to him and he’s looking for a spot where the artist could’ve slipped his chisel. 

But you don’t cower before him. Although his height seemed imposing when you first met him, he now seems ridiculous to you. A child hidden behind a brick wall.

"Could you stop talking in code for two fucking minutes?"

"I want you to stop treating me like shit. You caught on now?"

He laughs unfunnily.

"I think I treat you pretty well, girl."

"Really?" you smile. There's a part of you that cringes at the gesture; he's been souring you since you met. Now you're fed up, but you know you'll never be able to return all of the blows he’s knocked you out with. "You think coming home and taking me to your bedroom for five minutes of grunts and sweat is treating me well?"

"Our bedroom."

That does make you laugh.

"Fuck, Toji, I don't live here! You never asked me to move in with you. And I've waited for you but I'm..... I don't even know what I am. Disappointed, maybe?" Your mood begins to shift as you search for him with your stare. You want to see some sort of reaction, something that isn’t a performance, something that doesn’t act as a mirror. 

Something that tells you he cares about you.

"I thought I was dating an adult,” you continue, softly now. “That we could talk about it but... God, you're exactly like all the men I've been trying to avoid. All savages, the lot of you; too barbaric to be able to say you feel anything, even if it’s pure lust."

He raises a brow, closing the refrigerator door with a slam and leaning against the countertop with a click of his tongue.

"You want me to tell you that you make me horny?" he asks, with an ironic smirk.

"I want you to tell me that there's something that goes with the sex. Something that can last."

He doesn't say anything, just exhales loudly, huffing with annoyance.

And for some reason, the gesture takes you back two decades ago, when your father used to do that to you. A puff of air like cigarette smoke whenever you wanted something he didn't feel like giving you; mostly his time.

You don't know where the memory comes from, but it hurts. It burns and coats your throat with bile.

"There’s nothing," he whispers, at last. 

Now you really have to make an effort not to vomit.

Silly girl, you say to yourself, you already knew that. But it's no use.

"And I had to dig that out of you with a spoon, baby," you tell him, dripping with sarcasm.

He doesn't notice how you pale, how you grab the skirt of your dress and bite the inside of your cheek. He doesn't smell your despair, nor the copper drops emanating from the wound you've caused yourself by biting on your skin.

Toji's not a bloodhound, no matter how much he resembles one. He's just an asshole.

Your words make him frown and stick out his jaw. You recognize his hint – you’d recognize him by taste alone –, it's the gesture he makes before he fights.

"And what the fuck did you expect? For me to telepathically figure out whatever shit you’re thinking?"

"No, Toji. I just wanted an answer." That’s it, you suppose.

You sigh, unclenching your fists without relaxing your shoulders, and head for the bedroom. Except for your cell phone and a pair of nightgowns, you have almost nothing here. Let him keep the panties, if he gave them back to you, you'd burn them anyway. 

He follows when you pass him by on your way out of the kitchen, and, for once, he looks incredulous.

"What? You think we’re done chatting?"

"I don't even feel like looking at that asshole face of yours anymore."

Every word that comes out of your mouth stabs him in the spleen. He's never seen you like this.

You have nothing left to care for, nothing left to protect from the storm, nothing to hope and pray to see bloom. Your land is infertile and all you feel is frustration, so there's no more measuring yourself.

To hell with all this.

"Yesterday it was all about cuddling and today you're leaving,” he says. “What did you expect?" At that, he smiles with malice, one that, unfortunately, is not unfamiliar to you. "That we were going to fall madly in love? That this was about more than sex? Oh, but you're just a little girl. I've been with a hundred of the likes of you."

He's lying. You know he's lying. 

This man has never loved a woman in his life – you pity his mother – but he's not a manwhore either. He wears things out until he’s outgrown them.

It's funny — he’s always looked too big on you.

Your head turns around, but you stay frozen where you are, kneeling in front of the bottom drawer of his nightstand. On your knees, you almost look like you're praying, but your eyes condemn a truth that hurts him. It burns and coats his throat with bile.

"I never expected you to fall in love with me, Toji. I'm not that stupid," you look at the drawer again, taking clothes and shoving them carelessly into your bag. "I'm just young."

“I may be young, but give me time.” Those words, the ones you told him when he met you, a little over half a year ago, ring in his ears. “I can take a hundred men like you.”'

He remembers them now, gall climbing up to his uvula. Your smile back then clashes with your current tears. You have aged seven years in seven months.

He can see it in your posture, in the expensive fabric of your dress and the way you tie your hair back. He can see it in the depth of your cupid's bow, in the care with which you hold your hands.

You know how to handle dynamite now, but you can't stop gunpowder from blowing up.

Toji is speechless. He doesn't want you to leave, but he's already worn you out, you've already woken up from your reverie. He hasn’t outgrown you yet.

When you get up, your cheeks are covered with tears. You wipe them away carefully; you would’ve never done that back when he met you.

You were free then; of wild smiles and clumsy hands, of loud cries and smell of freesias. Young with bravado, a shell of the sea.

Seeing you like this, knowing you're going away, turns his stomach. This is the last time, and you don't smell like freesia anymore. You're all orange and lavender, unmistakable and silent.

Toji raises a hand and brings it up to you. For a split second of madness you think he's going to slap you, but he simply catches a strand of your hair; only instead of tucking it behind your ear, he lets it curl around your cheek.

His hand falls to his side – he wasn't raised to be like this. He wasn’t raised to get you to stay.

"Get out," he murmurs, the timbre of his voice low and plangent.

You close your eyes for a moment, just to find his image behind your eyelids; smiling and defiant, with a glass of champagne in his hand and kohl-stained eyes.

The tide inside washes away everything else.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

What starts badly ends worse, you think. 

(And yet, it ends).

© 2023, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.

(reblogs are appreciated !!)

[ihearthes]

Title: Hole in One

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (1st person)

Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)

Word Count: 3100

The sky is the bluest it’s been in months, and I hear birds singing from the trees surrounding the private course. My clubs have been unused for far too long, and I cannot wait to feel the grass beneath my feet. Spying my grandparents talking to a young man who I assume is the club’s pro, I make my way in their direction, eager to get onto the green. The giddy skip in my step is undeniably partly due to the excitement of playing the game again, but mostly because I’ve not seen my jetsetter grandparents since Christmas. 

“Grammy! Gramps!” I call, my hand waving as they turn towards me. Wrapping my grandmother in a hug, I put out my hand for a high five with my grandfather. Gleefully, he obliges. 

“So glad you could join us!” Grammy whoops. “Let me look at you.” Taking my hands, she steps back to survey me in that way that must be a full chapter in the Grandparent Training Manual. “Looking sexy as hell,” she laughs, her greeting likely not in that same manual. “Twirl for us.” She makes that motion with her finger, and I oblige.

As I spin around, my skort not moving in any way that would make a twirl necessary, my grandfather applauds as if I were a five year old at her first ballet recital. 

“Two of the biggest dorks I know,” I giggle. “I’m so happy to see you!” Excitedly, I pull them in for a group hug, wondering why the golf pro hasn’t excused himself yet. So when I step back, I pointedly look in his direction. 

And promptly freeze. 

Fuck. Nope. Not the golf pro. Nor the course manager. Not anyone who works at the place. 

“Hi. I’m Harry.” He leans forward to shake my hand, his left leg raising behind him as a counterbalance to his inclining body. “You must be Birdy.” 

Horrified, I grasp his warm hand, my eyes roaming over his face with that stupid hair clip firmly holding back his bangs and his green eyes examining me, a smile on his face as his dimple deepens. Flustered, I don’t give him my birth name. “A nickname, of course,” I remark inanely. 

“I’m just hoping it doesn’t bode ill for my game today.” His gray pants are matched with a dark blue pullover sweater, a white turtleneck underneath. 

How my mouth continues to work is beyond me, but I throw my head back and laugh loudly. Probably too loudly as I’m feeling a mixture of terror and arousal, and the laughter is decidedly nervous. “I’ve never been a threat to anyone on the golf course,” I comment.

“With grandparents as young as yours, I expected someone younger.” Harry thinks he’s being coy, but my grandmother responds honestly. 

“We’re ancient, Harry, and our Birdie is 31 now. And not getting any younger.” Pointedly, she looks at me as though I had offended her in some way. 

“We’re up,” Gramps points, and we haul our clubs to the first tee. 

“What’s your handicap?” Harry asks as Gramps swings a few times for practice. 

“23,” I announce proudly, on the low end of average. “You?”

“14,” he brags, adding a wink for good measure, an indication that he is aware of his boast. Not that I can complain since I’ve also gloated about my below-average number. He’s too handsome and charming for my comfort, and I engage my attention on my clubs, polishing my driver before withdrawing it from my bag. 

Amiable enough, Harry diverts his focus onto my grandmother, and I’m grateful for the respite to catch my breath. 

“You must go first, Vivienne.”

I want to interrupt and tell him we always go with the oldest first, which is my gramps, but my grandmother has already fallen for Harry’s charm, and she giggles like a schoolgirl as she makes her way to the tee. 

After my grandfather and I have each teed off, Harry prepares for his turn. In those tight golf trousers, his arse is as well defined as the ostentatious naked statue in the fountain at the entrance to the golf club. I find myself unable to stop staring as he bends down to place his tee, and his form when he swings is a thing of beauty. No wonder he has a low handicap. Why couldn’t he be a failure at just one thing in his life? And why couldn’t it be golf? 

Noting where his ball lands, Harry removes his sunnies from the vee of his sweater and slides them over his eyes, shielding his expression. With a nod at the three of us, he twists his body, ready to move on. 

“Shall we?” Gramps gestures, and I hoist my clubs onto my shoulder again, setting off behind the elderly couple who head for a single golf cart. “Sorry, Birdy.” He casually throws over his shoulder as we approach the small vehicle. “We got the last cart. You and Harry will have to walk. But don’t worry. Your grandmother and I will do our best not to burn rubber.” 

If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if my grandparents were trying to play matchmakers. But they wouldn’t have any idea who Harry is. Although maybe it doesn’t matter to them. Perhaps my grandparents just want to pair me up with any Tom, Dick, or ….Harry.

“Mhm. See that you don’t get a speeding ticket, Gramps!” I yell as they take off, leaving Harry and I trailing behind. 

“You seem like a chip off the old block,” Harry jokes as we hike towards the hole. “Get it? Cause a chip is a golf shot.” 

“Oh, I understood the joke, but it was bad,” I groan. “No ifs, ands, or putts about it.” 

His eyes widen. “I see. It’s like that, is it?”

We both giggle, and when he shoves my shoulder at my next golf pun, I wonder if he’s flirting with me. As if Harry Styles needed to flirt with anyone. 

It’s on the fourth fairway that my Gramps gets involved with a joke of his own. “Hey, Harry?”

“Yes, sir?” The polite reply comes as I’m replacing my divot. 

“Why do the golf pros tell you to keep your head down during golf lessons?” 

“I don’t know, Rufus.” Harry withdraws his 3-wood and addresses the ball, shaking his hips in such a way that if my grandparents weren’t around, I’d probably faint. “Why?”

“So you can’t see them laughing.” Gramps guffaws, and Harry shakes his head, the corners of his mouth tilted up as he takes a deep breath and launches his ball closer to the green. 

My grandparents always make me laugh, but today they seem in finer form than usual, as they joke with Harry, my grandmother clearly vamping. Before today, I’ve never wondered if my grandfather was anything other than straight, but the way he touches Harry at every opportunity makes the wheels in my head churn. 

On the 8th hole, Grammy takes a mulligan after her ball sails into the water hazard, just short of making it across. She sighs, pulling another ball from her bag and muttering goodnaturedly to Harry. “Golf balls are just like eggs. They’re white, round, and you need another dozen every week.” 

Harry slaps his knee as he giggles at her pathetic joke. I can almost convince myself that he’s having the time of his life playing golf with these 78-year-olds. He gives every appearance of enjoying the late afternoon game. No wonder no one has anything unkind to say about him. Well, no one he’s met anyway. 

As we walk to the 9th hole, I decide to dive in and bravely ask the question that’s been on my mind for the last two and a half hours. “Why did you join us today?” 

Startled, he twists his head to look at me. “You had three. I was a late single player. The pro added me to your party. Simple.” 

“Okay.” I draw the word out, wondering if I should ask the follow-up question, and when he continues glancing at me curiously, I go for it. “But why do you have a free day today? And why didn’t you bring someone with you?” 

He turns his head away from me, but I still see that left dimple deepen as he shrugs. “I decided on a whim that I wanted to golf in this perfect weather, and my manager was busy preparing for tomorrow night’s show.” Turning around, he walks backwards so he can face me. “But I never thought I’d meet such a fun –” his eyes never leave mine, “and sexy companion.” 

I can feel the red creeping up from my toes through my body to flush my face. How does he do it? Flirting so openly without being gross? If anyone else had delivered that line, I would have gagged. Instead, I pretend that his comment has had no effect on me – like I’m not going to need dry panties before dinner with my grandparents.

“Harry!” My grandfather yells from where he and my grammy have stopped at my ball. “You better watch where you’re going! Sometimes people don’t replace their divots.” 

The musician nods to me courteously as though he hadn’t just made my heart flutter. Turning to face forward, he continues on the pathway where we finish the 9th hole. 

“Birdie,” Grammy stoutly announces to me as she climbs back into the cart. “Your grandfather and I are tired. We’re going to head to the clubhouse and have a drink, but you and Harry should play the back nine.” With that, my grandparents wave to us as their cart drives off towards the start. 

Oh. 

Well. 

That was unexpected. 

This is unexpected. 

Harry has put his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. “Well?” He watches me carefully, and I know the decision to continue is mine. 

“I doubt I’ll get to play with someone like you again, so we might as well continue.” 

“Someone like me? A celebrity?” Seeming genuinely confused, he removes his sunnies and scratches his head near that damn hair clip. 

“A duffer,” I tease.

“If that’s the case, it’s because your beauty has distracted me from my game today.” His eyes twinkle when he makes the comment, and that’s the moment I know the flirting is on in earnest. 

When we reach the 12th green, I can’t stand being so close to him without letting him know I am up for more. As he squares up for his putt, but before he pulls the club back to take the shot, I whisper loud enough for his ears only, “If you miss this putt, I’ll let you kiss me.” He doesn’t hesitate, taking the shot that rolls right at my feet where I’m holding the flag. And yet somehow the ball doesn’t go in. 

“Does that deal count if I accidentally missed?” 

Biting my lip, I tilt my head and observe him. “Hmmm…I’m not sure. It’s kind of offensive that you wouldn’t want to miss it on purpose. I mean, here I am, perfectly kissable. I’m going to say no. It doesn’t count.” 

Stalking towards me, he picks up his golf ball and tosses it to the edge of the green. “How about now?” His voice is a growl, and he’s standing close enough for me to feel the heat emanating from his body. 

Fuck. He’s so hot. Beyond sexy. 

I glance around the course quickly to see if anyone is nearby. Spotting no one, I tilt my head up to him. Harry grabs my chin with two fingers, staring into my eyes before he brushes his lips over mine. The moan that emits from my throat is heartfelt and demands more from him, but he steps back, his hand dropping to his side. 

Hooded eyes rake over me, and he smirks. “You’ve never met a golfer with a more delicate stroke than me.” 

“Promises, promises,” I tut, holding out the flag for him to take so I can putt. 

A few holes later, and all pretense has dropped as Harry rests his hands on my hips while I’m lining up my shot. “Are you sure you know how to hold a shaft correctly?” His voice in my ear is so gravelly that I want to drop onto my knees right there on the fairway and show him exactly how skilled I am at handling a shaft.

“Be careful there, Harry,” I murmur, “You’re like a water hazard. You’ve got me soaking wet.” 

“Fuck.” Stepping back from me, he shakes his head. “How many holes?” 

“Three,” I comment, and my eyes bat of their own accord, I swear! 

“Jesus!” He runs his hand over his face. “You’re like a fairway: short, well-groomed, and a pleasure to hit on.” 

“Are you saying you’d like to improve our stroke game together?” 

“I’m saying that I’m not going to make it back to the clubhouse at this rate.”

“Well…” I approach him, again searching the nearby greens for golfers, “...my golf coach says I have a firm grip. Do you want to see if it’s true?” 

“Birdy…” His voice is strangled as I ease my hand over the front of his trousers, feeling his length where it’s tucked safely high and to the left. The air exits his lungs at a faster velocity than a golf swing. “Get your clubs,” he commands, roughly replacing the putter he’d withdrawn and grabbing my hand. 

Yanking me behind him, Harry leads the way towards the parking lot where he uses an electronic key to open the vehicle and throw in his clubs before grabbing my golf bag and more gently placing it on top of his so that the two golf bags look to be spooning. 

“Get in,” he insists, and I don’t hesitate to scurry to the passenger side. 

“Where are we going?” I ask, my hands in my lap after I’ve buckled the seatbelt. The quivering in the lower part of my body will only be appeased in one way.

“Shit. I’ve no idea,” he sighs, not putting the car in drive. “My hotel is too far.” 

“Switch places with me,” I suggest, knowing exactly where we can go. 

With a single nod, the two of us climb from the vehicle and pass each other silently and aggressively on our way to opposite sides. Buckled in, I back the car from the lot and drive the two miles to my grandparents’ house. 

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” I state. “Open the garage before the neighbors spot us.” I share the code, and Harry follows my directions. Without drawing too much attention, we’ve sequestered ourselves in the garage, with Harry waiting impatiently for me to get out of the car. 

The moment I step from the driver’s side onto the pavement of my grandparents’ garage, Harry approaches me, his hands cupping my face as he devours my lips. I do not hesitate, opening to him as my fingers fumble for the bottom of that fucking blue sweater I’ve been jealous of all afternoon because it gets to hug his curves. As I draw the sweater up, he releases my face to raise his arms over his head, and I don’t hesitate, repeating the gesture with his white turtleneck. 

As soon as his skin is free from the clothing, his mouth crashes back onto mine as his long lush fingers make short work of my white polo. He’s backed me almost to the stairs that lead to the house, and he wraps an arm around my nearly naked back just as I’m about to topple over onto them. 

“Where?” His breath is scented with the mint from his gum, and I feel the waft of it across my cheek. 

My brain scrambles. My grandparents’ house. Quickly I discard the master bedroom and the sofa in the living room. Grasping his hand, I haul us both to the only room that makes sense. Stopping to frantically kiss this amazing man, I reach behind me to unhook my bra, his fingers brushing over my boobs as soon as they are bare. 

When I open the door to our destination, Harry pauses, his eyes widening as he takes in the golf trophies, photos of my grandparents with famous golfers on the paneled walls, and the putting green. Shaking his head, he laughs, and the crinkles at his eyes make my panties even wetter. 

“I like my men like a sand trap: dirty, challenging, and unpredictable.” Although I’ve attempted to make the joke with a straight face, I fail miserably as I dissolve into giggles. 

With a face palm, Harry laughs too, glancing at the putting green. “No way am I fucking on that fake turf. One of us would end up with scraped knees, and I don’t know if I would prefer it be you or me.” 

“No question there,” I purr as I drop to my knees in front of him and reach for the button and zipper on his trousers. “I’ve been drooling for this shaft all afternoon.” 

“Well, I am known for my lengthy club.” The smirk on his face drops away as I free his cock and give it a few strokes before sliding my lips over the end and applying light pressure. Pushing his pants and underpants down his thighs, I reach for his balls. “Oh, fuck,” he sucks in air. “I had planned to wash my balls after the game today, but you’re welcome to….ahhhhhh.” The way the sound escapes his mouth when I do as he suggests and lave his balls with my tongue has me hotter than a July game at a Miami course. 

Returning to his cock, I slide his length as far as my throat will allow, practically unhinging my jaw as I take him in. Closing my lips, I use suction until he grabs my head, pulling my hair to remove me from my current activity. 

When I look up at him, I can see the scar under his chin as he’s staring at the ceiling. He takes a deep breath, and I cannot resist scraping my teeth lightly to see his reaction. It’s instant, as his jaw drops and his eyes connect with mine. Just as I get to the end of his cock again, I make a humming sound, knowing he can feel the vibration on this sensitive body part. 

“Birdy…” he gasps. “I need…” 

Releasing him with a popping sound, I sit back on my knees and grin, rather proud of my ability to reduce this cheeky flirt to two-word sentences. 

“What?” I demand. 

“I need to feel your fringe. Taste it even.” 

Closing my eyes, I shake my head as though I’m disappointed with his golf pun, but it honestly gives a zing to my private parts. 

“Fair enough,” I comment, using my current location to remove his shoes and the rest of his clothing so that he stands before me, naked but for his socks. 

“Shouldn’t that be ‘fairway’ enough?” He giggles, his shaft pointing straight at me. 

I groan. “Oh, man. If I weren’t so hot for you, your bad jokes might just turn me off.” 

“Good,” he smiles, and the dimple deepens until I’m confident I could fit a thousand golf balls, each with their own 381 dimples, inside it. That many dimples all in the same space would be overwhelming. “Now let’s put my wood in your golf bag, shall we?” He holds his hand down to me, and I grasp it so that he can pull me upwards, our tongues tangling like a dust devil. 

Fingers fumbling with the buttons on my skort, Harry moves his lips to my neck. “Why ‘Birdy’?” 

“Seriously?” I scoff. “You want to talk about my nickname now?” 

His luxurious fingers shove my panties and my skort down to my ankles, ignoring my shoes completely as he encourages me to kick off the offending clothing. “Yes please.” 

Nude, I plant my hands on my hips, glaring at him from where he’s squatting on the floor after removing my outfit. “My grandfather scored a birdie every time he took me out with him on the golf course when I was a baby.” 

“Oh,” he pouts. 

“Not as sexy as you thought it might be?” 

“As a story, you really should work on it.” 

“I promise I’ll spice up the story with the next single that joins our foursome,” I simper. A look crosses his face that could be construed as jealousy if one were so inclined. Which I’m not. Because he’s just an afternoon fuck. 

As I start to step past him to the leather sofa, he grabs my thighs and buries his face in my crotch, sniffing deeply. Flabbergasted, I pause, my balance off. 

“Widen your stance,” Harry demands, and when I follow his direction, he uses both hands to part the petals at my entrance. Just before his tongue dives in, he blows a puff of air, and I shiver at the sexiness of the move. 

“Fuck, Harry,” I grab for his shoulder so I don’t sink to the floor. Between his tongue and his teeth, I nearly tip over the abyss, but when he uses both hands, inserting one finger in each of my body’s lower entrances, I come, screaming his name as I yank his hair, accidentally dislodging that damn hair clip which skitters across the wood floor. My orgasm continues as Harry rises, one finger still teasing my clit. 

“You were right,” he whispers to me as I gaze at his glistening face, “three holes left. Now taken care of.” Capturing my lips, he delves inside my mouth, his tongue and finger below taking turns, setting a rhythm that would do well in one of his songs. 

Fuck. I’m weak. 

When my body stops shivering, I use both hands to shove him onto the sofa where he lands with both feet out and his driver in the air. 

“Birth control?” he asks. 

“Taken care of,” I grin. “IUD. But if you want double protection or you don’t trust me…” I gesture towards the rest of the house, trying to figure out where a condom might be hidden in my grandparents’ house. 

“I trust you. No one with that nickname and those grandparents could lie about something like that.” 

With a grin, I concede his point. Besides, my grandparents would flip their lids if I got pregnant without a commitment. 

Slowly, as if I’m lining up a putt, I slide onto him. 

“Mmmmm…that’s a hole to be respected,” Harry murmurs as I descend, and I would laugh if not for the fact that I’m gearing up for my second orgasm. 

“Are you up for some stroke play?” I query as I settle completely on him, my insides stretched but happy. 

“Stroke that stroke, babe.” 

With the steady beat of that Billie Squier oldie in my head, I follow his instructions, lifting myself off his shaft before plunging back down as hard as I can. Just when I’m getting closer, panting as I look to the skies, Harry taps my butt cheek. “Turn around here, love.” 

Settling on the sofa with my rear in the air, I am startled when Harry’s finger circles my asshole, and I wonder if I’m in for a different experience than I had originally expected. He’s too big for my back door without a lot of preparation, and it’s clear he knows it as he settles on wedging a finger there while his cock invades my vagina. Between his cock and his inserted finger, I’m so close to exploding that I slam my body backwards into his until he finally removes the finger, grabs my hips, and pounds into me. 

“Drive into me, Harry!” I scream, recognizing the golf pun after it’s already left my mouth. Biting my lip, I reach in front and play with my clit just as Harry shoots his load into me, and I writhe with my second orgasm, his name on my lips as he falls onto my back. 

Seconds, minutes, decades later, Harry disengages from me. 

“That was pleasant,” he smiles, and I wonder if this is it. He’ll leave me here, his cum dripping from me onto the furniture in my granddad’s golf room. “We should probably get dressed and get back to the course. Otherwise, they’ll send out a search party. If we get back quickly, they’ll think we just took our time on the 18th.” 

Agreeably, I laugh. “I can see it now.” Imitating my grandma, “‘But our baby girl is out there with a handsome stranger! They must be exhausted after 18 holes!’” 

Together, we dissolve into giggles at the innuendo as we sort through the discarded clothing and dress ourselves, making our way back to the garage as we locate our shirts. 

“You better drive us back. I’m likely to get lost in your tall bush.” 

“Oh, please,” I roll my eyes. “My grass is perfectly trimmed for the game.” 

“Mhm,” he smirks, “Who’s your caddy?” 

We pull into the parking lot, laughing at our ridiculous puns. Removing our golf bags from the trunk, we make our way into the clubhouse where we quickly locate and join my grandparents. 

“How were the last few holes?” Gramps asks. 

“Pretty good,” Harry grins, glancing over at me. “I got both a Birdy and a hole in one.” 

I want to laugh at his comment, but any suggestion that we did anything other than play golf would get me in trouble, so I simply smile, nod, and announce, “It was quite the round. The best I’ve had in a long time, by par.” 

When everyone at the table howls with mirth, I feel Harry’s hand on my knee as my grandfather speaks up with, “Harry? I think you might be missing a number on your scorecard.” When he winks and gestures towards me, I groan, but my latest lover takes advantage of the moment, holding out his scorecard to me. 

“If you wouldn’t mind…I might need another hole in one the next time I come to town.” 

Reblogs are love. Thank you.

[i-cant-sing]

Dr snow hear me out. So I’m North African right now? Ikr so cool anyway if I was in the 12th century I would be a direct descendant of dihya al Kahina and I would be angsty and upset about the loss of my royal status as princess in the matriarchal amazigh society after the Arabs came so I would train and become the best archer in North Africa and look for ways to restore my dignity and honour the matriarchy of my great great great great grandmother. I would wake up one day and get a tanit tattoo on my forehead and then seek help of the one and only in all of the levant….king Baldwin , we would meet in some random setting in the desert , I would ride a camel and he would have a white horse , I would come unarmed fierce and feisty to impress him with my bravery or so he thought because I did in fact have a dagger strapped to my thigh under my royal blue satin dress with a slit that he can’t see so he would never know I truly was armed…He would see an angsty angry upset wretched hurt soul within me instead of the fake strength mask I had put on through his wisdom and imaginable charisma . We would play chess , I would win , he would agree to help me after that . In the end , he would heal my soul from hostility towards Arabs and from the dangers of revenge and I would become a delicate rose with a tempered soul who was truly strong and possessed a lot of wisdom and compassion instead of an angsty reckless impulsive little girl. We would live happily ever after then and throw balls every season.

idk why but the visuals is reminding me of assassin's creed odyssey and im a sucker for AC games

honestly, yes baldwin would help you but he would 1000% know that you are armed and he would NEVER lose a chess game. im sorry but u could be idk magnus carlson, and baldwin would still be able to beat you. the only way youre winning is if baldwin lets you win because you might be a sore loser and ur angsty ass needs a win for once.

baldwin is the embodiment of beauty with brains, and this dude is so wise and smart, most people actually underestimate him because of his age (because they think age = experience) but its also because baldwin often downplays his intelligence. he's not the type to immediately spring into action, no- baldwin likes to observe, likes to set everything into place and let the dominoes fall into place. he's not someone who waits for an opportunity, no hes the one creates an opportunity. only a fool would wait for the circumstances to be in their favour. baldwin makes the circumstances favour him.

[rongzhi]

re: generation names - my friend researched it when naming her baby, and most of what she read said that generation poems were mostly used for the name a young man would take at adulthood, so not for childhood names or for girls, BUT her family did have a history of using the poem for girls, at least in more recent generations (~1900s)

Yes that would make sense! I wanted to say some more stuff along those lines but it seemed too tangential... I feel like girls not having generational names in some cases that other people reported in the notes would have a lot to do with whether or not the woman had status/was expected to have status.

I actually took a look at our family tree/scrolls just to answer the question yesterday. From 1870ish forward, our branch of the tree includes daughter names, some of which follow the generational name, some of which have a homophone, but since it follows the paternal line, a lot of the daughters even higher up on the tree (it goes up to the 1370, altho ours is a version that is more detailed beginning in the 1900s when our specific branch moved to Sichuan) are just noted as 女 and their descendants are not listed except for more recent relatives, or they just end with a note as to which clan they married into. So, I think as someone else said that applying generational names to daughters probably depended on the parent, as with the last anon's parents.

A lot of the wives/ex-wives and concubines are also just noted as 妻/ 前妻 or 亲 respectively, followed by their clan name. My dad said that it was because back then a lot of women from uncultured families (illiterate?) didn't have proper names, and they just went by 小名 (childhood names) their whole lives. Even my great grandmother is just listed as 妻 谢氏 😅

[chargoeson]

My First Writeblr- An Introduction

I’ve used tumblr on and off for over ten years but wanted a blank slate now in time for NaNoWriMo 2023 and all the future writing projects I’m devoting myself to. Also highly inspired by all the cool writing blogs I’ve discovered so far since restarting this account <3

About Me:

My name is Char or Charlotte (she/her), I’m 24 and live in the Pacific Northwest in the US

I write literary fiction now, but have kept up various personal essay projects and poetry over the years primarily through my private newsletter!

I have a Bachelor’s degree in English Language and Lit with a soft spot for the Gothic and Romantic eras.

Nothing published yet, but since I am finally out of school I am entering a new phase of creative freedom that feels very encouraging.

Fun extras: I’m a virgo sun, pisces moon (yes, it does hurt), my cat’s name is Brad, I am also a fiber artist, musician, home renovator, perfume enthusiast, and chronic illness advocate.

My WIPs:

Project Amgydala (tentative title: Ballad of a Blue Whale) Novella- Literary Fiction/Surrealism Status- Draft 1 complete at around 33,000 words 2024 Goal- First revision/draft 2 Synopsis- Maren Hara, a recent graduate, moves back in with her father and turns completely inward. She removes herself from the life she created throughout university and begins walking from sunset to sunrise, looking for something she cannot put her finger on. This leads her to Devereaux's Salvation, a jazz bar seemingly from another era, whose eager manager and illusive owner begin to crack through Maren's walls and bring her back into humanity.

Project Corvidae (tentative title: I Want to Build a Home with You) Undetermined- Literary Fiction/Light Mystery/Horror Status- Plotting and beginning first draft 2024 Goal- Complete outlines and give draft 1 my best shot Synopsis- In the wake of the death of her family matriarch, portrait painter and former performance art prodigy Leonie Richards finds herself on the receiving end of her grandmothers vast literary legacy and her eclectic, spirit filled home. Alongside her uncle, the art store clerk, and a host of portrait clients she begins to unlock the secrets of the final years of her grandmother's life.

Mind Over Matter- this is actually backstory for Leonie from Project Corvidae and seeks to shed light on her past performance art pieces and the relationship between her and her grandmother. Light body horror, unsettling women, the works. One of These Nights- a slice of life, Murakami-inspired piece of an American expat living in Tokyo trying to ground herself within a new language. Digs into themes of friendship and social anxiety. Lots of fun music cameos. a green pea moon- my FAVORITE. My little baby. A surrealist romp through the dream world and how it relates to the joy and fear of being queer and letting yourself be loved. Near and dear to my heart.

taglist: @annlillyjose @coffeeandcalligraphy @subtlefires @belovedviolence @onomatopiya

[kingdoms-and-empires]

why there is women in army ?

is there lack of men in argent or something ?

13th century BCE (THIRTEEN CENTURIES BEFORE THE BIRTH OF CHRIST) – Lady Fu Hao, consort of the Chinese emperor Wu Ding, led 3,000 troops into battle during the Shang dynasty. THAT'S OLD AS FUCK Also guess what: She is credited fighting the earliest recorded large-scale ambush in Chinese history. With up to 13,000 troops and the important generals Zhi and Hou Gao serving under her, she was also the most powerful military leader of her time. This highly unusual status is confirmed by the many weapons, including great battle-axes, unearthed from her tomb. One of Wu Ding's other wives, Fu Jing, also participated in military expeditions. So i guess we can say that Wu Ding got that thang for strong women, like many of the other dudes in my discord server lmao

I wanted to show you the earliest record of a woman leading an army, now let's see actual combatants.

For some reason, the nomadic horse riders, since the times of the Scythians, had women in the ranks. That means the guys that almost toppled civilization if it wasnt for the Assyrians, the Mongols, Turks, Huns, Xiongnu, and moreeee, way more.

You should also read the Book of Shang, and see what it details in regards to women in the army. "...he recommended dividing the members of an army into three categories; strong men, strong women, and the weak and old of both sexes. He recommended that the strong men serve as the first line of defence, that the strong women defend the forts and build traps, and that the weak and elderly of both sexes control the supply chain. He also recommended that these three groups not be intermingled, on the basis that doing so would be detrimental to morale."

And this is all before I even get to the more well known instances shieldmaidens from the vikings, Onna-Bushi (or Musha) women of the samurai, or Celtic and Germanic warrior women.

Course, i grabbed most of this from wikipedia with just a quick search lmao

I just wanted some facts and historical instances before I could end it with "Cause I want to have women in the army cause it's my story"

Plus, the Blessings are an equalizer, as the Sword Saint Wythela will show you in the story. With the advent of so many women being able to fight with a strength that surpasses that of a normal man, of course these women will champion female rights and ensure a more equal society, and that's what Belthean women did. Even in Nareth before Belthean culture dominated there are instances of women leading, like in the Carsthe dynasty or Remiel's grandmother herself, Queen Calmiel.

[redjadethewriter]

Blank the Series: The Novel vs The Show

After finally sitting down and reading the source material for the series, I must admit that I had expected it to be more provocative. However, to me, it was more like reading a soft-core erotica - nothing too outrageous. I hesitate to even classify it as soft-core, but that’s the best way I can describe it. Of course, anything involving BDSM is bound to stand out.

Despite my initial reservations, I found myself engaged in the love story between Khun Nueng and Anueng. The story, although a bit too PG-13 for my taste, held my attention. In my analysis of the series, I primarily focused on the character interactions, their internal struggles, insecurities, and how these factors influenced their actions and decisions.

Being a crone, I naturally gravitated towards examining Khun Nueng’s character more closely, as I found her to be the most relatable. However, I must acknowledge that Anueng is a well-developed character as well. She serves as a reminder that, regardless of age, individuals can possess cunning and resourcefulness.

While Anueng may appear childish around Khun Nueng in the series, after reading the novel, I gained a deeper understanding of why she expresses herself in such an over-the-top and annoying manner. It’s because she wants to elicit a reaction from Khun Nueng, as it seems to be the only way to make her “look more human” or act like it. In the novel, Khun Nueng rarely shows facial reactions unless she’s prompted to do so, which Anueng does often. Otherwise, Khun Nueng would simply hide behind her stoic mask all the time.

Interestingly, Khun Nueng’s go-to response to anyone expressing a romantic interest in her is, “Are you worthy of me?” as a tactic of scaring them away. This phrase serves as her motto, even though she doesn’t have any specific criteria for determining who would be worthy of her love, mainly because she has never truly loved anyone. So, when Anueng challenges this line by asserting, “I’m not today, but I will become worthy,” it deeply shocks our ice queen, both in the novel and in the series. It’s something she never expected.

As I’ve mentioned before, Khun Nueng finds herself in quite a bit of trouble because she has met her match in Anueng. They are contrasting yet compatible characters, and that’s what I find intriguing. They possess similarities that draw them closer together while also reflecting their deepest flaws. In a striking revelation, I realized their insecurities were actually quite similar, but in reverse. Anueng becomes jealous because of her insecurities about being young and not having much to offer, constantly worrying that Khun Nueng might end up with someone her own age who has a more established life. On the other hand, Khun Nueng frets about being too old and the possibility of the young girl eventually growing bored with her, changing her mind, and leaving.

Khun Nueng exhibits striking similarities to her grandmother, both in the series and in the novel. They share an icy demeanor, a controlling nature, and a toxic fixation on perfectionism. Despite leaving behind her privileged status, these traits have carried over into her more humble life as an artist. I now understand that her choice to rebel against her grandmother was not all simply out of spite, but a deliberate decision to assert her own identity.

While Khun Nueng desires her grandmother to acknowledge her responsibility for Song’s death and their collective suffering, she also longs to discover her true self. Above all else, Khun Nueng yearns to experience a wider range of emotions. She craves the taste of disappointment, having never truly felt loved or experienced the exhilaration of a racing heart. In the show, she exemplifies this by placing her hand over her heart and feeling it race in the presence of Anueng.

Khun Nueng lacks ambition. Although she pursues a career as an artist to sustain herself, she does not envision it as a long-term path. She wishes to continue using her artistic talents, but without the constraints of working for someone else. Her yearning for freedom outweighs any financial concerns, despite her constant struggle to make ends meet. In fact, Khun Nueng embraces the hardships that come with being a “starving artist.” Her upbringing with her grandmother shielded her from feelings of disparity and anguish, making the challenges she faces now exhilarating rather than burdensome.

Khun Nueng remains unimpressed by materialism and possesses a practical approach to life. She values essentials like food over fancy clothes, which captivate Anueng in the novel. Khun Nueng refuses to let those who flaunt their status and wealth sway her, as she cannot be bought.

Overall, Khun Nueng’s character is complex and multi-faceted. Her resemblance to her grandmother, with her stoic demeanor, her secret pursuit for emotional depth, her lack of ambition, and her indifference towards status all contribute to her unique persona.

While watching the series, I noticed that the first episode started the story at a much later scene from the novel. In this scene, the characters were already familiar with each other. Initially, I was confused because I wondered why Khun Nueng walked the girl to the bus-stop and knew which bus Anueng needed to get on. The wordplay exchange between them, especially with Anueng stating she was running away and asking to stay with Khun Nueng, added to my confusion.

As I continued watching, around episode 2 or 3, I noticed the girl had a lot of drawings that Khun Nueng had made for her. Being the analytical person that I am, I figured they must have met multiple times before. My confirmation of this came later when I read the story.

To explain Khun Nueng’s constant worry for the girl’s safety and her habit of always walking her to the bus stop, we found out that since the day they met, Khun Nueng had discreetly made sure Anueng got home safely at late hours. She would even follow Anueng from a distance to her house. From day one, our favorite dead-face character had been the protector, constantly concerned about the girl’s well-being.

I would like to highlight the similarities between Khun Nueng and her younger sister, Sam. However, before discussing their similarities, it is important to address the issues that arise between siblings. The reason Khun Nueng behaves more like their grandmother is because she received the most attention from her. Sam acknowledges this fact, admitting that although both of them were loved by their grandmother, she never had her undivided attention. This observation became clear to me while watching Gap the Series, as Sam was the one who received the least amount of attention. This dynamic only changed when Khun Nueng left and after Song passed away.

Even until the very end of their grandmother’s life, Sam tried to convey this, trying to get Khun Nueng to reconcile with their grandmother. Episode 6 showcased their close relationship, despite their occasional conflicts. I also understand the perspective of sibling favoritism, as Khun Nueng received the most scrutiny and was molded by their grandmother to potentially take her place in the future. This is why I see such striking similarities between Khun Nueng and their grandmother. However, Sam and Khun Nueng are undeniably similar as siblings. Sam has a tendency to express her jealousy openly, while Khun Nueng displays it in a manner that is passive-aggressive. Both of them struggle to admit their jealousy and have a tendency to hurt their partners in the process, as they refuse to acknowledge their own flaws and weaknesses.

Sam undergoes a transformation. We witnessed her growth in Gap the Series, and in Blank the Series, we see Sam attempting to show her love for Mon by baking a pie from scratch. This action surprised Khun Nueng, especially considering she could have easily purchased one from a top-tier bakery. However, Sam wanted to infuse her love into the pie.

We observe a similar act of love in episode 6, but this time it is Khun Nueng cooking home-cooked meals for Anueng instead of going out to eat. This is why I concluded by saying, “Girl... you are lying to yourself.” Cooking for someone is an incredibly personal gesture, and I don’t do it for just anyone. Therefore, I know fully that she constantly deceives herself.

In conclusion, the novel and the series share many similarities. Although there were some necessary omissions and alterations to the timeline and character interactions, I hope these changes will be seamlessly integrated in season 2, maintaining the steady pacing that has been established. Based on the first 6 episodes, I have a sense of what elements they might keep and what they may change. However, I do hope that they don’t stray too far from the meaningful aspects of the original source material, which I won’t go into detail about. I must acknowledge that the novel was clever in incorporating elements that kept me engaged until a satisfying conclusion. Therefore, if I see these same qualities in the series, I will be truly impressed, and the show will prove itself to be deserving of my attention.

I appreciate the good content.

Thank you.

[yukiwhitetm]

Fanstory Prompt

Short prompt:

Bruce Wayne's butler Alfred Pennyworth is Peter Parker's great-uncle and, after Tony Stark and May Parker pass away in the aftermath of Endgame, Peter is sent to be under Alfred's care.

Peter Parker's Genealogy:

Alfred Pennyworth & Peggy Carter (marries Steve Rogers) - Howard Stark (marries Maria Stark née Carbonell)

|

Tony Stark (marries Pepper Stark née Potts) - Mary Parker née Fitzpatrick (marries Richard Parker) & Ben Parker (brother-in-law, through Richard Parker) - May Parker née Reilly

|

Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (half-siblings, different mothers)

Long prompt:

Seventeen-year-old Peter Parker, secretly the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man of Queens, New York, has lost family and had to restart his life more times than the average kid (even one with superpowers!).

His parents Richard and Mary Parker died in an aeroplane crash when he was five. His Uncle Ben, who - along with his Aunt May - had taken him under his wing in the aftermath of his parents' abrupt passing, was shot and killed right in front of him when he was only fourteen. His Aunt May had a young stroke and passed away during the five year gap where Peter was busy being dusted (thanks Thanos!). And Tony Stark, who had only just found out he was Peter's biological father the year before Thanos attacked, when Peter was sixteen, but hadn't wanted to disrupt Peter's civilian life so had left him with his aunt, sacrificed himself to save the world, but more importantly Peter, in the final endgame battle against Thanos.

Now, Peter has blipped back into being five years after being dusted only to find he has lost family and has to restart his life all over again. This time with a great-uncle he hadn't even known existed! (Most likely due his not knowing Tony was his father and so Peggy was his grandmother until a year - six years? - beforehand.) Worse still, Peter has to move away from his friends and everything he's ever known to the world's most dangerous and crime-ridden city, Gotham. Who is Alfred Pennyworth and how has he ended up as a butler slash pseudo-grandfather to so many young people? Why do those very same young people keep on disappearing and then reappearing hours later from inside Wayne manor? What's up with those vigilantes hanging around Peter so much?

And why does everyone say that Batman has such a problem with mutants (also lesser known as metahumans) like Peter? He can't not be Spider-Man, even in a new and dangerous place like Gotham, so is Batman's prejudice going to be a problem... Or will Peter find himself an unlikely new family in the shape of bat and bird themed heroes as he builds himself a new life in Gotham city?

Prompter's note:

Lately, I have read a lot of Spider-Man&Batman crossover stories where Peter ends up in the DC universe - even ones where Dick Grayson was Richard Parker (adopted into the Parker family) in the Marvel universe before dying - which is fun but I wondered what would happen if it was somehow the same universe? Let's say the Justice League existed longer but were quieter than the Avengers and then the Avengers came crashing in, loud and proud as can be, and they refused to have anything to do with the Justice League, who they saw as nothing more than vigilantes. That's why the Justice League has never involved themselves in Avengers battles. Only now, my thought process went, the prompts above start pushing the Avengers-Justice League status quo when Spider-Man starts superheroing in Batman's city (particularly because a lot of the Avengers are gone). And the batfam find themselves unwittingly adopting a lost and lonely Spiderling.

P.S. I think Tim/Peter would be cute! They're both smart, compassionate, overly hardworking heroes; I think they're a perfect besties-to-boyfriends couple. Or an aged up! Damian/Peter could be a fun enemies or rivals-to-lovers storyline. If neither of those work, go ahead and do what inspires you instead, just don't couple him with up with Dick or Jason (which I have seen) because minor/adult couples are never cool. A better idea would be to ship Peter with no one at all!

I know I set a lot of this story prompt up for you already but that's just because I had a lot of thoughts on it. Feel free to make it your own!

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

I tried to watch mid but I'm really bad at caring about characters I don't know (I know it sounds stupid) I just couldn't bring myself to care.

Do you have anything new to do with Daemos culture (I'm looking at the MID wiki.)

I took forever to answer this, I’m sorry.

Basically, yeah, I have a bunch of culture stuff, but… I want to draw some of it and I can’t find my pen… so I’ll ramble about a few things in particular until I can.

Head wear/crowns.

Aaa

(This is copy pasted off of a discord rant I had about it)

Daemos royalty wear these big elaborate head dresses/crowns which accentuate the height of their horns, to make them ‘more intimidating’ and to basically brag about how rich they are, but due to practical and personal reasons, Asch only has his little ring on his horn

The size/material/colour/style of these head pieces will depend on the person, their status and their general reputation. The emperor will have the largest, most elaborate one, whilst lesser nobility will likely just have horn caps made of gold or something

Asch wearing the ring crown is seen as incredibly humble, and traditional in certain Daemos’ cultures, but he mostly just chose it over horn caps because it was his mother’s. Cultures outside of the few certain ones are not fond at all of Asch’s ring crown, however.

Horn caps, btw, if I’m not being clear, are little bits of jewellery that daemos wear on the ends of their horns. They can come in a variety of shapes and styles, but are typically shaped to fit the shape of the daemos’ horns and make their horns look taller. Some, however, opt for fashion over height, though that’s not very common

For this reason, someone being referred to as having a ‘weak neck’ is kind of a way to say that they’re not a good leader/are poor. Since larger headpieces put more strain on the wearer.

Adding on, other stuff not included in the discord rant;

The ‘weak neck’ insult also carries over into an insult to call certain Daemos ugly, as larger horns are seen as more attractive, and, y’know, larger horns = more strain on the daemos’ neck.

This insult can also go the other way. ‘A neck too strong for the horns it carries’ can be a compliment to say someone is skilled beyond their social class, but it can also refer to traitors, as they often have their horns removed. It’s a way to either say 'youre cool for a poor person' or that someone is untrustworthy. it depends, of course, on context.

Asch wearing only the ring crown is seen as a bit of a bad omen amongst the nobility. He is second in line to be emperor (though many support the idea of him usurping the throne after his father passes, so that it may not fall into Rhal’s hands), and such a small crown implies that he will not amount to much, or will fail in some way. Large crowns imply greatness, and yet Asch’s is small. They worry for what it means.

Lady Grandma is referred to as The Empress Mother in my rewrite. Since… Lady Grandma sucks as a character name but I still wanted to make the idea clear. She’s the mother of the emperor, and thus Asch’s grandmother. If Asch’s father were to pass, she would become The Empress Grandmother (since Rhal or Asch would take the throne, and they’re both her grandsons). I like to think the Daemos still like to give titles to their former monarchs, or, more accurately, their former monarchs have too much pride not to have their own unique titles.

Tw for mentions childbirth, complications surrounding childbirth, infant death and death during childbirth.

Royal children whose mothers die in childbirth are often referred to as Blood Princes/princesses, or whatever their title pay be, due to a small superstition that those who are born through violent births may lead violent lives. It is, oddly, a compliment, and many emperors have pushed their wives to have unsafe births in order to birth a Blood Prince son. In a violent culture, it’s something that is sought after. Of course, this leads to a lot of infant death in royal bloodlines, as unsafe pregnancies are also unsafe for the child.

Asch is a Blood Prince. However, the circumstances of his birth were a little more graphic and violent… and whilst his father can be blamed in some part for it, his father did not actually want a blood child, and so did not seek out a violent birth for his son as many did. Alas, Asch was born through blood and misery anyways.

[kess-in-the-perthchimzone]

Sailom and the equal footing in Kang’s vulnerability

In a second installment of having a lot of feelings about Sailom, I want to talk about how Kang’s willingness to be vulnerable with him puts Sailom in a position where he feels he has something meaningful to offer in their burgeoning relationship.

Sailom is a very transactional person - (see his refusal to take Kang's grandmother's money if he doesn't tutor Kang). You can see this back to episode one — Auto and his mom know they can get him to agree to extra food by empathizing that he does something for Auto in return (also tutoring).

We’ve also seen that he’s not willing to be made to be made to feel lesser because of his circumstances. He works multiple part time jobs, carefully keeping a budget, always focused on the future. Whenever Kang tried to bully him, Sailom looked him dead in the eye as if daring him to do worse and then found a way to one up him. He refused to lie solely to keep his scholarship.

But the two of them were poised to enter their friendship / eventual romantic relationship on wildly unequal footing. The events of episode two forced Sailom into the role of the victim. The attack of those men left him helpless, cowering on the ground and ended in him crying in Kang’s arms.

And that was before he started to appreciate exactly how well off Kang is — he’s now seen how big Kang’s house is, how comfortably he can spend thousands of baht on food, the kinds of gifts Kang gets for his birthday. On paper, Kang has it all: he’s wealthy, good looking, popular, and lives with family who look after him.

But episode 3 flips their dynamic in a really important way.

First, Sailom starts genuinely helping Kang by tutoring him. He witnesses first hand the difference his teachings can make. However this is still a business transaction — this is something he receives money for.

Then, at the night market, Kang starts to opens up to him emotionally. He bares something about himself that it’s clear he’s never expressed out loud before. He put himself in a position where HE’S the one who is vulnerable. At this point, Sailom is no longer the only one who’s shown a weak spot.

Only thanks to Kang’s earlier confession does Sailom understand exactly how gutting this gift of a motorcycle is for Kang. He’s suddenly able to see past the fancy presents and veneer of a loving family — two things that might have further divided them. And this touches me so much — he emphasizes deeply. Sailom is not saying “oh, poor rich boy who doesn’t have real problems”. He looks genuinely heartbroken for Kang.

This all culminates in the pool scene, where (from Sailom’s perspective) they become true equals.

They wrestle, and Sailom wins by stopping Kang from throwing the key. However cliche pool scenes are in BL, the symbolism of water is powerful — they both get completely soaked, showing that this is the point where the events of the past are wiped clean. This is when they truly start over.

When Kang finally lets the full, raw force of his grief show through, Sailom realizes he has something important he can provide that has nothing to do with money or status — his belief in Kang. Because he does believe in Kang -- Kang has already surprised him four times that we've seen: coming to tutoring to begin with, solving the math equation, in his written english, and at the bar.

It is Sailom’s idea for Kang to look to him as a source of inspiration. And he’s instantly validated. After, Kang looks at him like he’s this most important person in the entire world.

Sailom’s transactional personality really shows here because he confirms this new understanding — he asks Kang a second time.

Not until Kang agrees - via the most pathetic sad wet boy nod I’ve ever seen on my TV - does Sailom hug him, sealing their deal.

We’ve talked a lot as a fandom about Kang’s side of this — how important it is for him to finally have someone give him a purpose and take him off the dark path he was headed down. I’ve even seen some talk of how that’s manipulative; or how Kang is taking advantage of Sailom.

But Sailom is never willingly the passive victim. He recognized he had something tangible to give Kang; something that has nothing to do with money, and he asked for Kang to take it. Because in his mind, it allows him to spend time with Kang on on equal footing. And since Sailom is enjoying their time together — that's what he wants.

[meraxesmoon]

My Different HOTD OCs

note: i have so many, and I wanted to have like a little info page about them. also, tysm for voting!

┍━━━━━━━ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗━━━━━━━┑

Aemma Velaryon

Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Criston Cole, Lawful father is Laenor Velaryon

Physical Appearance: Aemma is traditionally Valyrian looking, soft lilac eyes and snowy white hair. I imagine that she probably looks a lot like her grandmother, and she is often dressed in soft blue colors to represent both houses Velaryon and Arryn. She wears gray as well to match her dragon Grey Ghost. I imagine her as a plus sized woman, like very soft and sweet.

Attributes: Very soft spoken and sweet. Aemma is coveted by her mother, and she doesn't spend a lot of time away from Rhaenyra, especially in her younger years. As such, she's very naive and trusting, something that makes her mother worry quite a bit.

Aemma was very close with her father, Laenor, and had a huge depressive episode after he 'died'. She isn't very close with Daemon, and after moving to Dragonstone, she spends her time with her baby brothers or riding her dragon.

She's very dutiful, and when she is betrothed to Aegon to solidify her mother's claim to the throne, she does it without complaint. They were close as children, and Aemma believes it could be a content marriage, despite the rockyness between their families.

She is Rhaenyra's heir.

Dragon: Grey Ghost.

Aemma was dragonless until she was about ten years old. After her family relocated to Dragonstone, she ended up bonding with Grey Ghost, one of the wild dragons. Being quiet herself, Aemma and Grey Ghost compliment each other very well, and she spends more time with her dragon than anyone in her family.

Aemma has a personalized saddle, a heart emblem on Grey Ghost's chest to symbolize how much she loves him.

Angsty Info: Aemma is made a prisoner of war after Rhaenyra is usurped, if we're going with the canon timeline. She's forcibly married to Aegon after Lucerys is killed, and she becomes aware of Criston being her actual father. This all happens within a very short amount of time, and she tries to throw herself from her window but is stopped by Ser Criston.

Spouses/Lovers: Aegon Targaryen II, Aemond Targaryen (one-sided)

Children: In a peaceful AU, Aemma is married to Aegon and has two sons and a daughter. Laenor, Aenys, and Naerys. She had a stillborn daughter, Naerys' twin, and couldn't have any more children after her daughters were born due to her mother not allowing it.

Alyssa Snow

Daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Unknown Northern Woman

Physical Appearance: She looks as though she belongs in a fairy tale book. White hair, mismatched eyes, and a cunning smile. Alyssa looks much like Daemon's mother, and her purple-green eye combo is evidence of this. Despite being fierce and stubborn, she quite enjoys wearing dresses. Her main colors are pink and purple. She only wears black on rare occasions. Her hands are calloused due to dragonriding without wearing gloves.

Attributes: Stubborn yet empathetic. Alyssa was, for the first eight years of her life, raised in the north. Therefore, she follows the old Gods. She's very strict in her beliefs, as well, and refuses to convert. Due to her religion, she has a certain disgust for her father's side of the family, but loves her siblings all the same.

Alyssa is very close with her dragon, and covets him. He is her protector in some twisted way, and she thanks him for it constantly.

Daemon and Rhaenyra don't allow her to be called a bastard by anyone. If someone does, they're guaranteed to get beheaded by her father and fed to Caraxes. Despite this, Alyssa has made peace with herself and knows what and who she is.

Due to her status as a bastard, Alyssa never marries.

Dragon: Balerion

In an AU where Balerion lives, Alyssa bonds with him when she's around eight or nine, right after Daemon takes her away from her home in Winterfell. Balerion and Alyssa are kindred spirits who are drawn to each other by their loneliness.

Balerion is very protective of her and has almost burned down Dragonstone due to this instinct to protect his rider. In turn, Alyssa spoils her gigantic beast, and when they're not flying over Westeros together, they rest on the beach of Dragonstone.

When Alyssa first bonds with him, she doesn't know any dragon commands. Therefore, their emotional connection is extremely strong. Even as she grows older, she rarely has to use them because the two of them are so in sync.

Angsty Info: Alyssa has a lover, Collette, who is a maid at Dragonstone. During the war, Collette is used against Alyssa by the Greens and killed horrifically. Stricken with grief, Alyssa nearly goes mad and burns down Harrenhall in order to get revenge against them.

Tragic medieval lesbians 💔

Spouses/Lovers: Collette Rivers

Children: None, but after the war, she becomes a mother figure for Viserys and Aegon.